Here
by realtrashwriting
Summary: SoMa Week 2019: Parties aren't so bad if you have someone to spend it with.


**For SoMa Week 2019, Day 1: 2AM.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater**

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**Here**

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"It's a lot more enjoyable than you would think," assured Maka over the heavy bass of the music that reverberated around the house. She turned the red solo cup in her hands, thumb rubbing along the rim at a slow, patient pace. Her ankle remained hooked around the leg of her seat. "But you're right," she continued, "it is more difficult, especially if you take it as an elective course."

Her speaking partner -his name might have been Akane, but accurate introductions were hard to come by in an environment like this- nodded and shouted something out about getting another drink. When she politely declined a refill, he stood with the promise of returning whenever he got a spare moment and started to inch his way back to the drink counter in the kitchen. She hummed a little to herself before feeling the seat below her shift. Maka turned to face her cushion of choice for the evening: the reluctant co-host of tonight's party, Soul Evans.

When Maka had first met Soul in her European Literature class, she hadn't been quite sure what to make of him. She had the misfortune of being late to her first lecture of the year, had been forced to sit with Soul at the back, and then proceeded to be partnered with him for the rest of the semester. Soul was not as lazy as he made himself out to be, and the pair of them were able to seamlessly finish assignments and presentations with more ease than Maka could have ever thought possible.

Considering Soul's general aversion to crowds, one would think that his roommate would be more accommodating. But alas, with a roommate like Black*Star, there was little that could be avoided. Maka had known the idiot since their elementary school (they'd practically grown up together) and he had not changed in the slightest.

"You know," said Soul conversationally, "you're a lot more into this than I thought you'd be."

Maka rolled her eyes and focussed her attention on her boyfriend. "One of us has to look like we're enjoying this." She smoothed some of his hair away from his eyes, his wine-coloured eyes meeting hers easily. "I mean, people come in here and see Black*Star playing beer pong and coaxing first years into beer drinking contests, and then there's you, doing nothing but brooding away in the corner like this is the worst place you've ever been. I'm making sure we seem engaged."

"We don't have to do anything," grumbled Soul. "This is Black*Star's party. He can worry about whether the guests are entertained."

"But I'm sure a fair number of people came here just to see you, you know?" Maka smiled playfully at the disgusted look that overcame Soul's features. "What would they think, knowing that you hate this sort of thing now? You used to be the guy everyone wanted at every party."

The memory alone made Soul a little squeamish, and Maka couldn't blame him for it. In their first year, Soul was known to be a highly coveted person to have at a party. While Black*Star brought the energy, Soul brought the dark, bad boy charm that underage drinkers adored. Now that he and Black*Star could host parties and legally buy alcohol, they were a little more selective of their crowds, but their same trademarked energy remained. The only difference was that now Maka could see Black*Star's behaviour as more than attention seeking. Soul's attitude on the other hand had been understood in a whole new light after they truly began to spend time together. "Yeah, well, I've never really liked college parties. I just went for the free booze. Besides, these types of things aren't my taste anymore," said Soul dismissively.

The mere idea had Maka snorting. "You used to tell me they helped you with your 'cool guy' image."

"Yeah, well, I'm dating you now," said Soul. "It should be pretty clear that I don't care about any 'cool guy' image."

She slapped his shoulder. "Rude."

He responded with a simple squeeze of her knee, simple and sincere. "By which, I mean that I'm not really interested in what other people think of me. You never cared about that kind of stuff, and it wasn't exactly helping me impress you."

The words settled nicely in her chest, their newness filling her with contentment. She'd always been impressed with Soul, for reasons that she initially didn't really understand too well. Over time, she had recognized her admiration for his unique perspectives and academic trajectory, so unlike her own that it was fascinating. But it was true: Soul's social position had never impressed her. Instead, it was his thoughtfulness that won her over. He was kind, observant, clever and street-smart in a way she never could be. And the idea that Soul had been attempting to impress her was downright comical since he never seemed to care much about that at all. "Since when have you ever tried to impress me?" laughed Maka.

He'd never needed to try and impress her. He just _did_. Without evening trying to, his subtle gestures built him up nicely for her. From late night motorcycle rides back to her dorm after study sessions to buying her coffee for their 8 AM lectures, Soul had left her in awe of his own selflessness, something he completely didn't see.

"I let you sit on my lap for the last forty-five minutes without asking you to move even though my legs are absolutely numb." He raised a pale eyebrow at her. "You can't tell me that you're not impressed."

"I'm only impressed by how long you've stayed at this party." Maka set her drink down on the coffee table and slid her legs over both of Soul's. Her arms brushed past his shoulders as she pulled him in for a hug. Soul reciprocated reflexively with an arm around her waist, the other on the bare patch of skin at the hem of her skirt. "And I do mean that. You're doing fine."

Soul snorted into her shoulder, and she could feel some of the tension in him ease. "Glad you think so."

"I do," said Maka as she pulled back a bit. Her lips brushed his cheek before she took up her cup again, "but I'm also really impressed with your neighbours. How have you not gotten a noise complaint yet?"

"The street is mostly student housing," explained Soul, "and Black*Star tends to invite most of those students here. But, to be honest, Kilik lands up sending a message to everyone on the street, warning them about the party. The students that aren't already here usually leave for the night and come back later when they know 'Star isn't going to be home."

"And how would they know that?"

"Whenever he hosts these parties, they almost always go till two in the morning. At that point, he always gets a call from a patron two houses away that definitely can't hear the music but knows the party is happening and requests from him to take the party elsewhere."

"Why doesn't he just start the party at a club?"

"Clubs are expensive, Maka, and house parties tend to be a lot more comfortable. Besides," said Soul, smiling back at her, "he kind of takes it as his cue to head to an actual bar or club with people that want to get out of the house and do something. The nightlife downtown is a lot more active than you'd think at 2 AM."

"Isn't that exhausting?"

"It is if you have school the next day, but since these parties are always on Friday nights, there's plenty of time to recover from your hangover. Plus, there are tons of people who do pre-drinking before going to a bar or a club. It's pretty routine. In fact, I can remember Black*Star organizing quite a few pub crawls with some of the more avid drinkers at his parties." He said it with such practiced ease that Maka could picture him attending one of Black*Star's events, skipping from bar to bar to have another new drink, to befriend the patrons there, to grow tipsy with his companions before sending himself home. She'd always thought Soul's reputation of being a party animal was been greatly dramatized, and it was confirmed for her once she learned that he had a tendency to sneak away from the party once everyone was too drunk to notice his absence.

"I don't think I'm meant for the party scene," sighed Maka.

"Yeah, but that's not the worst thing." His lips quickly brushed her cheek. "You wouldn't be you if you were."

"Well, I think I've had enough of this for tonight." Maka downed the rest of her drink and stood up in one fluid motion.

"Where are you going?"

When she pulled the cup away from her lips, she could see the panic bright across Soul's face. Taking pity on him, she offered him her hand. Dark eyes flickered down, then back up at her expression, trying to read it.

"_We_ are going."

Soul's eyebrows were hidden by his fringe, high enough that it made Maka laugh. She'd caught him off guard with her offer.

"Are you serious?"

"I mean, if you don't want to get out of here, I'll just-"

"No, I do. Absolutely." Soul scrambled to his feet, letting Maka help pull him towards her. "Whatever you want."

Maka laughed and felt Soul's hand twist through hers. She pulled him through the crowd, excusing the pair of them and slipped into the blessedly vacant bathroom. Maka waited patiently as Soul ducked under the sink to grab Maka's emergency toothbrush. They brushed their teeth in silence with Soul seated on the closed toilet cover and Maka leaning against the wall. As she brushed, she watched his reflection in the mirror, the steady pull and push of his hand and the way he occasionally tried to hold back a yawn. They watched each other in the mirror, and she couldn't help the smile that played on her lips at how comfortable she felt doing something like this with him. There were no pretenses, no self-consciousness. It was just Soul.

She rinsed her mouth and wiped her face down with a washcloth Soul kept hidden for her use before the pair left the safety of the bathroom. They ignored the prying eyes of the other party goers, weaving their way through the crowd, until they finally stumbled upon Soul's bedroom. She waited while he dug into his pockets for the key and quickly unlocked the door. No sooner were they safely in Soul's room than they both sighed at one another in relief.

Maka had always been very careful about where she and Soul spent time with each other. Their school was neutral territory, restaurants or movies were fun/flirty places, however, their own apartments had been undergone the most change. Drawing the line between what was appropriate where was something that had taken some time to work out. The places that they had initially reserved to lunch breaks and study sessions when the library was closed had mingled with more romantic endeavours. Couches were fair game for light PDA when their respective roommates were home and transformed into a cuddling utopia when they were alone and binge-watching TV shows late at night.

Their bedrooms were private, housing every historical treasure, every shuddering breath of hope exchanged between them. It was where they kept trinkets from home. It was where Soul had expressed his desire to never be without her, where she admitted her fears, where they explored each other in the dark. As Soul's own roommates were somehow _more_ nosy than her own (something she still couldn't believe most days), the vast majority of their more intimate moments had actually been experienced in her bedroom.

Soul's bedroom, as it was, looked almost the same as it had the first and last time she'd had the privilege to look inside. He still had his textbooks stacked on the desk next to his laptop, sheet music was clipped in place to his music stand, clothes hung on the back of his chair, and Maka was sure that Soul had just subtly kicked his underwear beneath the bed. There were only two photographs framed in his room. One was with his brother. The second was a group photo, including herself, Black*Star, and a few of their other friends.

"I've never noticed this before," said Maka idly as she drifted over to Soul's desk, "but you don't have any pictures of me besides the group photo."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not at all." She offered him a reassuring smile. "I don't really have framed photos of us anywhere. I'm just curious about it." Maka tapped the edge of the frame and looked back at him. "This is pretty old."

Soul pulled at the drawer by his bedside table and tugged out a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts that Maka had left a couple months ago after a mishap at the school's weight room. After he laid them out on the bed for her, he looked around for his own pajamas. She shimmied out of her skirt, and Soul pulled off his pants, the pair of them changing into their pajamas quickly.

"I have pictures," admitted Soul finally, voice muffled as he removed his shirt. "I just keep 'em on my phone, is all."

She blinked over curiously at him from across the room. "All of them?"

"Most of them." Soul waited for Maka to slip under the covers before he joined her, snaking beneath the covers to trap her right leg between his. She giggled as Soul curled around her and burrowed under her arm. With his head on her chest and his arm like a dead weight over her stomach, Maka felt like she was trapped beneath a warm, weighted blanket. "I kind of like keeping those pictures to myself," Soul continued. "They make me happy, and it helps that I can look at them whenever I want."

Maka's cheeks warmed. "Oh?"

"Shut up," he said quickly, no doubt anticipating the cooing Maka usually reserved for Soul's more cheesy lines.

He knew how much she loved it when he said stuff like that. "Hey, Soul?" He tilted his head up to look at her, and she rewarded him with a kiss. "You're such a sweet talker."

"How else am I supposed to get in your pants?" teased Soul, reminding her of Black*Star's old accusations. Once he had realized that his roommate was interested in his childhood friend, Black*Star's relationship with Soul morphed from a brother to a brother-in-law, a transition in which he repeatedly tried and failed to intimidate Soul.

"You have long since succeeded." Maka pressed another kiss to his lips and eased into a comfortable position. "You sure you don't want to go out with Black*Star tonight?"

"Oh, I'm _very_ sure." He squeezed her stomach, and it took everything within her not to laugh out loud. "I'm not about to give you up as a pillow just yet."

They took a few moments to just lie there, relishing in the warmth of someone they loved in peace before Maka broke it tentatively. "Are you sleepy?"

"You underestimate me." Maka could feel his grin on her collarbone. "I'm always sleepy."

She shut her eyes, nodding lowly to herself. "Me too. My shift started too early, and I am dying to pass out."

"The sweet release of sleep, here we come." They could still hear the pounding of the bass through the wall, and Maka glanced down at Soul who looked perfectly content just lying on her.

"You make it sound so easy."

"It will be. Just give it a second."

She waited a beat, then another, and then suddenly there was a shrill ring. The music was turned off immediately and even from Soul's room on the second floor, she could hear Black*Star's voice offer a greeting, a half-baked apology, and then shout out to the rest of the house that they were heading out. There was a lot of movement, of people moving and stumbling downstairs, but one pair of footsteps stood out from the rest, getting louder as they approached Soul's room. "You better be decent with Maka in there, Soul."

"'Star, you need to chill. It's a little late for that."

"Soul, I'm serious!" The door rattled at Black*Star's attempt to open it but remained stubbornly locked. "You better not be banging my sister."

"Black*Star, I'm right here," said Maka sourly. She felt Soul snort, rolling a bit and hugging her closer. "I can take care of myself."

"Maka-"

"Black*Star, we're not doing anything."

"Can you promise you won't do anything?"

She paused thoughtfully. "Not while you're still in the house," promised Maka, which made Black*Star gag from behind the door and furiously proclaim that he was leaving a house full of such disloyal people while Soul continued to stifle his laughter.

"I love you," he choked out between chuckles, the sound of his joy filling her up and mixing with the pride she felt at causing the sound. They may have been tired, but she'd never be too tired for Soul. "I love you so much."

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**Of course it's late, guys. This is ME we're talking about. Thank you for reading!**


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